Stand
by ohamandalynn
Summary: "You stand between me and all my enemies." Which is why Castiel is now a cockatiel and Gabriel seems to be the only one that can help. Destiel. Alluding to Sabriel. Sounds like a crack!fic, but it really isn't.


Stand

By: AlleyBird

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A/n: I throw this oneshot into the pit of thousands of wing!fics. I couldn't help myself, honestly. I'm ridiculous. This takes place where between "Changing Channels" and "The Song Remains the Same" in Season 5. I conveniently left out the whole Enochian on the boy's rib cages thing in this one, just for plot's sake. Title and quote from "Stand" by Son Lux. He has been my soundtrack for everything Destiel I've been writing lately. Any inconsistencies or typos, _please_ tell me. I'm horrible at proofreading my own things.

Rating: T for language and slash.

Disclaimer: You're on crack if you think I own this.

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_You stand between me and all my enemies_.

Witches sucked. That was generally Dean Winchester's base opinion when it came to them. Every single one of them he'd come into contact with had either beat the shit out of him, nearly gotten him killed, or both. This time was no exception.

Sam was already on the ground, moaning at some pain this woman had inflicted on his stomach. Dean was spitting blood out of his mouth as he picked himself up off the pile of wood that had once been a coffee table; he was going to be picking the splinters out for weeks.

"You just couldn't mind your own business, could you Dean?" the witch scowled, pursing her red lips and flipping blonde hair out of her face. Her hands had a sick layer of blood on them and the three bodies behind her were starting to reek. "Now I have to kill you and your brother."

"Yeah, lady, that's not gonna happen," Dean snapped, grabbing a sharp piece of wood from the floor.

She gave him an amused look. "What are you going to do with that?"

"Skewer you like they did in the dark ages," he answered, smirking viciously. He was about to charge forward when Castiel appeared out of thin air. Dean stared at him in confusion, but quickly recovered. "Cas, get Sam outta here!"

The angel gave him nod, knelt down, and disappeared with his brother. Castiel reappeared moments later, looking grim. The witch began to laugh. "Look at that! The Winchesters have a pet!"

Dean ignored her and glanced over at Castiel. "Thanks, Cas. Good timing."

"I see you are in trouble. As always." The expression on Castiel's face wasn't really an expression, per se. But Dean could see the amusement floating just below the surface of the angel's eyes.

"This is adorable, really," the witch sighed, picking human flesh from under her nails. "But I would like to continue my ritual, so get out of my way."

What happened next was a blur.

The witch extended her arm to cast a spell at Dean…but it never happened. Castiel stepped in front of him and then was gone in a burst of light. Dean squinted in pain, trying to focus back on the witch, who was looking furious.

"That isn't fighting fair," she snarled, stumbling a bit; the spell seemed to have drained her for a moment.

"I never fight fair, bitch." Before she could recharge, Dean hurtled forward and buried the makeshift stake into the witch's heart. She screamed and flailed and did what every dying monster did. And then it was over. Dean sighed, wiping blood out of his eye. Witches sucked.

It only took a minute, but Dean suddenly realized two things: he didn't know where Castiel had taken his brother, nor did he know what _happened_ to said angel. He turned, looking around, expecting Castiel to jump out from behind a piece of furniture.

What he found was not what he had expected.

Sitting on the floor, looking flustered and frightened, was a solid, dark grey, blue-eyed cockatiel. Dean recognized it only because his mother had had one when he was young. The little flip of feathers on its head was unmistakable. He gawked at it, trying desperately to put two and two together.

Why was there a cockatiel on the floor, staring at him?

Where was Cas?

_Oh_.

"Cas? Is that…you?" Dean asked, voice weak in disbelief.

The bird let out a squeak, fluttering its wings.

"Oh my god." Dean sat down on the floor, massaging his temples. "You've got to be kidding me."

The bird shifted from foot to foot, shaking like mad, looking so agitated. Dean suddenly felt really bad for the poor thing. He couldn't imagine being turned into a tiny bird. It had to be horribly disorienting. After a minute, Castiel stumbled over to Dean and leaned his little bird body against the hunter's leg, nibbling at the seam of his jeans.

Dean Winchester would _never ever_ admit to this…but that made his heart break.

He let out a long sigh, scooped the bird up, and stood. Castiel squeaked again, this time in surprise and disapproval. "Get over it Cas. I'm not going to let you get stepped on. Now, squawk one time for no, two for yes. Did you take Sam to the motel?"

Two peeps from the angel-made-bird.

Dean nodded and left the now rotten smelling house for the Impala. When he got into the car, he realized he didn't know what to do with Castiel. Well, he _was_ a bird…He set the cockatiel onto his shoulder, chuckling. "Looks like you're perching on my shoulder, Cas."

He received a half-hearted nip at his ear.

The whole way back to the motel Castiel stayed latched onto the collar of his shirt, soft shivering body pressed against Dean's neck. It should've been weird, Castiel being this close to him…but he really couldn't be bothered. Besides, he had always liked birds. Castiel wasn't the cuddly type, either, so he must've been really spooked if he wanted to be this attached to Dean right now.

When they made it to the hotel, they found Sam passed out on Dean's bed (it's not like Cas would've known). He smirked, snatching Castiel off his shoulder and setting him on Sam's stomach. The bird somehow managed to give him a pleading, wide-eyed look.

"Wake up, Sammy! I got you a present!" Dean shouted.

Sam jumped slightly, jarring the cockatiel on him. He cracked open his eyes, giving Dean a disgruntled look. He then seemed to feel the bird's feet on him, and jerked his head up to investigate. "What the hell?"

"I told you, Sam," the elder Winchester laughed. "I got you a present!"

"A bird? Really, Dean?" Sam asked, giving Dean a "your-an-idiot" face. He sighed when Dean didn't respond, but just laughed harder. He put out a finger for Castiel to climb onto which made Dean bellow. Castiel stared down at the finger in confusion, but seemed to catch on to Dean's endless amusement. As soon as there was a dark grey cockatiel sitting on Sam's finger and he could sit upright, he looked up at Dean. "Why would you get me a bird, Dean?"

"This is not just any bird, Sammy." Dean snatched a beer out of the mini-fridge.

"What? Is it a magic witch-bird?" Sam asked sarcastically. "Wait, speaking of witches…what happened back there?"

"Well, Cas showed up and saved our asses." He chugged his beer, apparently done explaining.

Sam glared at him. "Care to elaborate?" Castiel squawked loudly from Sam's finger, seemingly agreeing with Sam. "Looks like the bird wants answers, too," Sam added.

"I'm sure he does," Dean snorted. "Basically, I ganked the bitch."

"Okay…? And Cas? What happened to him?"

Dean slouched onto the chair with his beer, pointed, and said, "Ask him."

Sam's eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed. He glanced at the bird, then back at Dean. "Dude, have you lost your mind?"

Dean just cackled, throwing his head back.

"Dean, what is so _funny_?" Sam snapped, now in full-force bitch-face.

"Ask _him_ what happened!" Dean repeated, pointing at the bird again.

Sam turned to look at the cockatiel, still confused. The bird stared back, head tilting slightly, the way birds tend to do. Then Sam noticed it: the cockatiel had bright blue eyes. Far too familiar eyes. The bird was staring at him intently, as though he were trying to explain something with just eye contact. "No…_no_."

Dean just watched in grim amusement as his brother's eyes widened. As hilarious as it all was, Castiel being a bird and all, it wasn't good. How were they going to change him back? Why couldn't they just have a _normal_ hunt where they just come back to the motel room, dirty and bloody, but _not_ in cockatiel form? This was just so very _them_.

Sam brought Castiel closer to his face, studying him intently. Which Castiel was not a fan of. He flapped his grey wings in Sam's face, making a disgruntled squawk. Dean lost it again, brooding thoughts momentarily lost again. "Yeah…I guess that _is_ Cas…" He glared at the bird in question and set him on the table Dean was sitting at. "What do we do?"

Dean sobered up quick and glanced down at the bird, which was still quivering. He resisted the urge to scoop him up and hide the angel-bird in his coat. "I have no idea. He just stepped in front of me when that witch tried to cast some spell. I don't know what it was or why it affected _him_ like _this_."

Castiel clicked his beak at this, fluffing his feathers.

"Care to share with the class?"

Dean didn't know birds could glare.

"Wait, I've got an idea," Sam said, pulling his laptop out of his bag and setting it in front of Castiel. He opened a word document and said, "_Now_ you can share with the class."

Dean watched in pure amusement as the little grey cockatiel scuttled back and forth across the laptop, poking key after key with his beak. He wasn't aware that Castiel even knew how to work a computer, but he managed to produce a flawless paragraph complete with spaces and punctuation. Honestly, though, he didn't know why he was so shocked; angels were pretty much perfect at everything that wasn't social.

_The spell was to turn you into a chicken, Dean. The witch needed the blood of a hen to finish her ritual. It would've been irreversible, too. To an angel, however, it is reversible, so I shielded you from it. It seems to have affected me differently considering I'm an angel. The only way to reverse it now is to find an archangel who will be willing to turn me back. I can only think of one that doesn't want to kill all of us, but in this state, it will be hard to find him._

"Gabriel," Sam said. "We have to find Gabriel?"

The bird nodded.

"That shouldn't be that hard, though," Dean argued. "Don't we just have to pray for him?"

Castiel tapped a few more keys.

_You could try, but I doubt he will answer_.

"But wouldn't he be on the floor laughing if he saw his little brother as a cockatiel?" Dean teased.

Castiel proved once more that birds can glare. He typed a bit more.

_You can try_.

Dean fell silent, wondering if Gabriel would actually answer. Last time he had seen the archangel, they had trapped him in holy fire and called him a coward for not helping the effort to stop the apocalypse. Yeah, maybe this wouldn't be going as smoothly as Dean hoped. It was worth a shot, though.

He set down his beer and stood up. "Well, here goes nothing…" He closed his eyes and said, "Hey, Gabriel…I know you're not too awfully fond of me right now…but we sort of need your help. Would you mind dropping in?"

Dean peeked open one eye. Nothing.

"I _did_ let you out of the holy fire, you know," he added.

Still, nothing.

"Gabriel, get over here, you asshole! Your brother is a goddamn cockatiel! At least come here and laugh at him!"

And that did the trick.

With a rustle of wings, Gabriel appeared, lounging on the bed, looking expectant. Everyone in the room fell silent. "Well?" he asked. "Where's this cockatiel you promised me?"

Sam, who had been blocking his view, moved out of the way to reveal Castiel. Gabriel stared for a long minute, then burst out laughing, rolling on the bed. Well…this was a start…

"Why hadn't I thought of this before?" Gabriel howled, launching himself off the bed, pulling Sam out of the chair effortlessly – who glared and muttered a disgruntled "_Hey!_" – and plopping down in front of the table. He laced his hands together, leaned his elbows on the table, and grinned down at his brother. "I must say, Castiel, you make a stunning parrot."

Castiel gave one of his contemptuous bird-glares and fluffed his wings indignantly.

Gabriel's eyes trailed over to the laptop, seeing the one-sided conversation there. "Oh, this is just _gold_." He glanced over at Dean, then at Sam, and said, "You've been teaching your pet Castiel tricks now? I didn't know cockatiels could type!"

And so ensued more laughter.

Dean really, really wanted to whack the archangel on the head; Castiel was beginning to look like a kicked puppy…er, _bird_. While Dean had always teased Sam, he had made a point to _never_ be a bully of a brother. Seeing Gabriel pick on Castiel like this was…irritating. Castiel was a badass angel, not a weak little sibling…though Dean supposed that next to an archangel, that's exactly what he was. He still wasn't having any of this, however.

"Okay, haha. Super funny. Now, can you change him back?" Dean insisted.

Gabriel gave him an amused, assessing look. "I think someone is getting protective."

"Don't start with me Gabriel. Just change Cas back."

"Touchy," the archangel said, raising his hands in truce. "I would…if I could."

"Bullshit!" Dean and Sam said simultaneously, just as Castiel squawked rather loudly for his size. Gabriel raised an eyebrow and barked a laugh.

"Well, tell me how you all _really_ feel!" He leaned back, crossing his legs. "But it's true. I can't do it."

"And why would that be, Gabriel?" Sam asked heatedly.

"Because the spell can only be reversed by the witch who cast it."

"Who happens to be rotting on the carpet of a two bedroom, one bath about ten minutes away," Dean supplied, sitting back in his chair and looking angry.

"Really? For as long as you dim-wits have been doing this, you two haven't bothered to remember that this is how spells work?" Gabriel demanded, looking incredulously back and forth.

Suddenly, Castiel scuttled forward and bit Gabriel fiercely on the middle finger.

The archangel yelped in pain, snatching his hand away. On instinct, he raised his hand to slap the bird across the table, but Dean reached out and scooped Castiel away. He set him on his shoulder and glared at Gabriel. "I think Cas disagrees."

Gabriel glared at the bird and for almost two minutes, unspoken conversation seems to occur between the two. Sam and Dean just watched, not wanting to interrupt if they really _were_ communicating. Dean wouldn't be surprised if they were using some weird angel-telepathy. After some time, some sort of agreement seemed to be reached. Gabriel sighs and sits back in his chair.

"Fine. I'll do it."

"Oh, so you were lying?" Dean asked hotly.

"You trapped me in holy fire, you stupid monkey," Gabriel snapped.

"And I set you free after that, feather-brain! 'Don't say I never did anything for you!'" he quoted angrily. Gabriel opened his mouth to retort, but Castiel made a loud sound, cutting the archangel off. Dean grinned; maybe Castiel wasn't the weak little brother he thought of earlier.

"I'll need the blood of the witch that cast the spell."

"That can be arranged," Dean said stiffly.

"I'll take him to the house. You watch over Cas-atiel," Sam sighed, standing up and pulling Gabriel out of the chair as roughly as the archangel had done to him. Dean and Gabriel both snorted at the nickname and Castiel made an irritated clicking noise in Dean's ear.

As soon as they were gone, Dean leaned back in his chair and yawned. "When are things like this gonna stop happening?"

Castiel shuddered against his neck, but stayed silent.

"It's lucky that you get turned into a bird, though. I mean the wings have to be at least somewhat familiar for you, right?" Dean asked. Flying for the first time, Castiel flutters off Dean's shoulder to land on the table, feathers brushing his cheek. He pecks away at the keyboard.

_These wings are nothing like mine. This body is hollow-boned and weak. Everything that was once insignificant is alarmingly huge. I can't stop shaking from the cold air in here. This is in no way lucky._

"You're cold?" he asked, worried now.

_I think so_.

Without thinking, Dean reached over and laid his hands on either side of the bird. The small form shook beneath his fingers, the feathers slippery and soft. After a minute, when the shaking still didn't stop, he lifted Castiel from the table and put the bird between his undershirt and collared shirt, near his neck. Castiel gave a squeak of disapproval, but he didn't try to get away.

So it became that for ten minutes, Castiel, the bird-angel, stayed cuddled in the warm of Dean, Michael's vessel and the world's biggest shit-starter. That was, until something happened. Light filled Dean's vision and the world suddenly swayed as the weight of something on his chest knocked the chair backwards.

Dean blinked in confusion up at a now human – well, human-_looking_ – Castiel stared down at him, completely wide-eyed and shocked. There was something different about him, however. Dean gawked at the angel, trying to figure it out…then, _oh_.

Behind Castiel were two _enormous_ pairs of dark grey wings. They were the same shade as his cockatiel form and so large, they took up the entire room even though they weren't completely stretched out. For one stupid minute, Dean was afraid that the spell had had some side-effect…but then he remembered that Castiel _had wings because he was an angel_.

And they were amazing wings.

They were far more luminescent and shiny than the bird wings he had been sporting seconds before. They had other colors in them, too. There was a sheen of red about them, with golds and blues interlaced. The feathers were hung perfectly off every joint and muscle…until he looked even closer. There were places where the feathers were charred and bent at odd angles.

"What happened to them?" Dean asked so quietly, his voice was almost a whisper.

Castiel's brows furrowed and he scowled. He knew what Dean was asking about. "Hell fire."

"From when…"

"From when I pulled you from Hell, Dean," Castiel finished for him.

Dean stared. Without thinking, not even _noticing_ that Castiel was still basically on top of him (Castiel seemed oblivious to it as well), he reached up and brushed the tips of his fingers against a charred feather. Castiel seemed to shiver ever so slightly…or maybe that was just his wings shivering. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the feather he touched glowed hot red and _regrew_.

"What the hell?" he said hoarsely. "Did I just _heal_ you?"

"Yes."

"How?"

Castiel sighed, his breath ghosting over Dean's face in a pleasant of way that he _absolutely did not enjoy at all, dammit_. "The wounds were made to save you. It would only make sense that you would be able to heal them."

"No, actually, that doesn't make sense at all," Dean insisted, reaching up to touch more charred and broken feathers. Castiel's eyes fluttered shut as each one glowed and was restored. The frame of his wings shuddered slightly each time. "You mean to tell me that you've been walking around with charred wings since you _raised_ me?"

Castiel just nodded, his head sinking lower, down towards Dean's chest. He pulled his wings in closer so Dean could reach every feather.

"Why didn't you just ask me to do this? It's the least I can do since you pulled me out."

Castiel opened his eyes halfway, looking at Dean with a gaze that absolutely did _not_ scream sex. "Angels do not show humans their wings. It's somewhat close to the equivalent of you being naked."

"I wouldn't have known any different."

Dean suddenly realized that every part of Castiel's wings was healed. And he was still running his fingers over the feathers. And he couldn't stop. The feeling of them on his callused fingertips was amazing. The heat radiating from them was ridiculous. And judging by the look on Castiel's face, they were sensitive as hell and Dean was dragging his feet over several different lines.

He was lying here, with a winged angel on top of him, _stroking_ his feathers like a-

_Fuck no. _Not a lover. _Not a lover_.

Before he could even begin to force himself to stop, Castiel seemed to remember that it was his turn to speak. He lifted his head, eyes pinning Dean to the floor, and said, "I stand between you and all your enemies. I was one of your enemies long ago. I was not going to ask that you heal me."

"You screwed up your wings, rebelled against heaven, and turned into a bird for me. You've saved my ass and Sam's ass countless times…and weren't going to ask that I just _touch_ your wings because of those few times you were following orders and we butt heads?" Dean asked incredulously. "And you say that _I_ have self-worth issues."

The look Castiel gave him was somewhere between amusement, anger, and disbelief.

Dean started to say something else, but Castiel promptly snatched Dean's hands from his wings and slammed them to the floor on either side of his head. He tried to say something, but then the angel's mouth descended upon his and all words were lost. Shock filled Dean's mind and the pressure against his chest and wrists created a weird sense of being dominated, something he normally only associated with being attacked by monsters. This was not scary or desperate, though.

For some reason, this was okay.

Before he knew it, he was kissing back. Castiel obviously never had a reason to worry about the state of his lips, but Dean found that the chapped texture of them was intriguing. Dean tugged at Castiel's hold on him, and, to his surprise, the angel let go. He started to pull away, as though he were expecting Dean to push him off, but hands found their way into dark, messy hair and Castiel was pulled back down.

The way that Castiel clutched at his jacket, knuckles brushing his collarbone, was sort of profound. Kissing Castiel was like kissing sunlight and oceans and mountains and storms. This creature was so old and powerful. Like a gargoyle on a cathedral, strong and ever-seeing, breathing and watching through time. Nothing had ever made Dean feel so powerless and powerful at the same time. A fucking _angel_ was kissing him right now, _clutching_ at him like he was something valuable, something worth clutching _to_. And Dean was just a human. A broken, sinful, twisted human being that Castiel's father had chosen over Castiel and his brothers.

Then Castiel pulled away, eyes glowing, mouth open slightly; he looked impossible and beautiful and dangerous. The last bit of air Dean had was knocked out of him at the sight of this angel _on top of him_.

"Thank you for healing my wings, Dean," Castiel said, voice lower and quieter than Dean had ever heard it before.

Dean wanted to say _you're welcome, it's not a problem, you're a fucking idiot for not coming to me sooner_. But he said none of that. Instead, he pulled the angel down for another kiss and the angel obliged. Then all-too-soon, in Dean's opinion, Castiel pulled away, bringing the hunter with him. They stood as close as they had before when Dean had reminded him about personal space.

Dean didn't care this time.

"Call for me when you're in trouble," Castiel said quietly.

"Only if I'm in trouble?" Dean asked.

"Or when you want me to be a cockatiel."

Dean grinned like an idiot. Castiel kissed him one more time, then disappeared.

Sam and Gabriel appeared a moment later, the archangel looking triumphant and Sam looking…molested. They both looked around curiously, however, when they saw Dean was alone, standing next to a knocked over chair. "Where's Cas?"

"No longer a cockatiel," Dean replied, trying to stifle his smile at the thought of what Castiel had just implied a few moments earlier.

"Well, one of his feathers is on you," Sam said, pointing to Dean's shoulder. "Though…that feather is _huge_. Is that Cas'?"

Gabriel laughed. "No, that's just an angel feather. But angels don't just go showing off their wings to anyone, which means Cas and Dean-"

Dean threw Sam's laptop at Gabriel, earning a louder laugh from the archangel as he fluttered away, and an angry swear from Sam as it shattered on the floor.

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_End_

A big thank-you to Tumblr and the wonderful people there for inspiring me to write this, and, as always, a very large thank you to Toby. She not only cheers me on every time I send her a message saying, "Sooo…I'm writing this thing…", but is the only reason I even know about Supernatural.

If you don't mind, leave me a review and let me know what you thought. If not, thank you so much for reading! (:


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